


A Modern Woman

by iWanttopetyourdog



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Not Sexy Sex Stuff, Sexual Humor, medium burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 06:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20541578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iWanttopetyourdog/pseuds/iWanttopetyourdog
Summary: Dorothea Arnault, hard working university student and part time DJ, hasn't wanted a relationship for a very long time. She's only needed her friends and the occasional, casual hookup to get by. But it's interesting what one bad hookup too many can make you realize about your feelings.





	A Modern Woman

**Author's Note:**

> [ This chapter is brought to you by this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C377nonHHwk)
> 
> Excuse me professor, I'd like to focus on my summary writing skills, because clearly they're very bad.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for clicking on this! I've read so many beautiful, angsty pieces from this fandom that my immediate creative brain had a knee-jerk reaction to make a kind of goofy modern AU. I'm also just thirsty for some Doropetra content so this is a little self-indulgent. It's been awhile since I've attempted a multi chapter fic, and hopefully my TV writing brain hasn't goofed up my ability to write description and character insights. I'm also attempting not to give too much away about this universe at one time but like, eh. 
> 
> Anyway I just felt like before you dive in I wanted to clarify that I've definitely taken these characters and their motivations and modernized it through a 21st century lense. For example, Dorothea would definitely have more autonomy over her future in a universe that works similarly to ours. Also the names of paths in Fire Emblem Three Houses also sound like names of college apartments, and you can't tell me otherwise. 
> 
> And since Dorothea is a DJ in this AU (lmao) each chapter is going to be inspired a song. Yknow, just for funsies. If you have any questions about this AU or why I'm like this, please feel free to ask! So please, enjoy!

2:07AM. Sunday Morning. All was peaceful in Crimson Flower apartment 313. The faint melody of the soft beats and sensual bass of a romantic R&B song quietly filled the apartment hallways. The melody filtered through from behind a bedroom door, the cracks of which were illuminated by a faint, orange light. 

If anyone were to walk close to that specific bedroom door, which most residents and guests of this apartment knew not to at that hour if they knew what was best for them, they would perhaps hear the whisperings of those in the throes of passion. Or these days, perhaps not.

“Do you like that, baby?” the male voice whispered.

“Oh… yeah…” the female voice stated unconvincingly. Not that the other member of the two person party would notice because these days, they never did.

Behind the door, a fully clothed, just a bit tipsy Dorothea Arnault, a 21 year old biology and music production major at Garreg Mach University, lay flat on her bed as the potential one night stand on top of her assaulted her neck with too much tongue. Sure he was good looking and, from what she could feel through his shirt, shredded as all hell, but he slobbered like a jowly canine about to go to town on a rare steak. 

As he licked up her throat _ again _ , she could feel herself getting turned _ off _ by the second. But, it has been a month or five since Dorothea has… successfully been with anyone, and it was much too late into the night to find someone that would be remotely of interest. She was desperate to salvage it. 

She grimaced as he lapped up her neck for a final time and went for her ear. In addition to her difficulties in getting herself to finish, it’s just been harder in general for her to find anyone of interest to hook-up with. As she felt spit enter her ear canal like the most intrusive of wet willies, she had to get this guy to stop.

“Hey. Get on your back.” She demanded of him. He excitedly complied, putting his hands behind his head as she began to straddle his hips. She looked down at his chiseled, handsome face, glowing from the illumination of her salt rock lamp, but could only notice the glistening of his spit that covered the lower half of his face. It took all of her self control not to cringe outwardly.

Maybe he was just too eager, as her late night conquests tended to be, at the chance to be with the Mystical Songstress. The most popular DJ at the university had music and mixes that were slowly beginning to pick up in all the rest of Fodlan. This persona she kept, along with her looks, charm, and personality, obviously, made it easy for Dorothea to have her pick of the litter on the nights she needed it, but this is the first time she ever took home the human embodiment of a bulldog. 

Yikes. Had she always been this critical? It’s not like she would sleep with just anyone, and it’s not that she did that often, even, but when she wanted to sleep with someone she was usually able to see it through. Had the people she’s been trying to hook up with recently just gotten worse? 

She went through the motions, smoothing his hair back with her right hand, and placed her left hand near his face to give herself leverage as she closed the distance between the two of them. Once their lips met she tried to stay in control of just how much tongue was used. Indeed, she was successful in controlling the tongue, but he then decided that if he were to have no tongue, he would just use his whole mouth to cover both of her lips and suck.

What a damned nightmare. There really may be no way to salvage this night. She preemptively pitied whoever ended up with this man, whoever ended up falling in love with this drooling disaster. And the sad thing is, he probably would find some little filly who’ll fall for his handsome features, and Dorothea would be somewhere in the world, all by her lonesome, never experiencing a love so true it transcends extremely bad foreplay. 

Wait, was she even ready to try and find love again? That was a lot to think about at this moment. But by the goddess, if only it were Petra with her here tonight, she bet that… wait- nope.

An unpleasant, wet, suctioning noise occurred as Dorothea separated herself from the man. “Nope! Nope! Stop!”

2:11AM. All was still peaceful in Crimson Flower apartment 313, as far as those in the joint living room and kitchen knew. 

The sterile, pre-furnished college apartment living room was adorned with posters and other memorabilia containing the image of the twin-headed eagle. Plants, some beautiful foliage and even some of the carnivorous variety, adorned the TV stand which held the standard television set found in the college apartments. A throw blanket made from softened deer skin, said to have been a family heirloom of one of the residents, was beginning to gather on the seat of the couch cushion occupied by one of the other roommates of the apartment. The music coming from Dorothea’s bedroom sounded almost ambient to those sitting in the living room. However, the loudly groaning couch soon drowned it out as Edelgard von Hresvelg, a 20 year old political science and philosophy double major, leaned into the couch, the blanket bunching behind her. She was wearing some sleeping clothes - just some black pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt. She lifted a hand to the bridge of her nose, pinching it with her forefinger and thumb to release some stress. 

“How many pages do you have left for your paper?” She turned to the person adjacent to her, sitting on the equally creaky loveseat. Hubert von Vestra, a 21 year old political science and psychology major, looked up from the laptop upon his lap. He was also dressed comfortably, with some black sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He reached for the mug on the coffee table in front of him, sipping at his lukewarm brew. The table was strewn with textbooks and notes, as well as another laptop belonging to neither party.

“Just one page left, Edelgard. Yourself?” She stared down at the blue screen of her own laptop. Almost nine of ten pages done on her Political Philosophy class’ essay, the prompt question being “Does the end justify the means?” She frowned.

“One more paragraph before the conclusion. But my brain can’t read another-”

“Nope! Nope! Stop!” The protests could be heard coming from Dorothea’s room, an alarming call for Edelgard. She shut her laptop and placed it among the other abandoned school items in order to listen in on the events. It wasn’t too often that her late night work sessions overlapped with Dorothea’s late night workout sessions, but on the occasions that they did, those were not words Edelgard has ever heard Dorothea utter. 

“What’s the matter?” A man’s voice could be heard.

“Sorry, we need-” the words started to get muffled as the two nonlovers began to shuffle around, the music turning off and the sound of a frustrated young man gathering his things masking any words that were possibly being said. Edelgard shot Hubert a worried look, but it was only met with indifference. Edelgard relaxed as he had began to continue typing once more to work on his essay. If he had shown no outward sign of concern, then perhaps the situation wasn’t so bad. The sound of Dorothea’s door opening down the hallway was soon followed by the hurried footsteps of Dorothea showing that man to the door. Edelgard stared, knowing the DJ well enough to not have to feign privacy for her sake. She noticed the state of the glimmering red tube top and black pleather skirt the DJ wore were almost pristine, meaning they never got into a state of undress.

“But we were just getting started!”

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry I… felt myself starting my period.” He looked at her, grossed out as most college-aged men do when a woman brings up their monthly cycle. Dorothea was a wordsmith through and through, knowing the right phrases for whatever job she needs to get done. Edelgard had to stifle her laughter, as Hubert made a faint grimace. Dorothea swung their front door open and gestured out.

“Uh, right. Um. I’ll see you around. Maybe next time when you’re all done with your...” He waved in the general direction of her uterus. She gave him a polite, purse-lipped smile as she waved in the general direction of the door, motioning for him to step over the threshold onto the outside of their apartment. He finally obliged. 

  
“Sure.” _ Slam _! The force reverberated throughout the apartment, and the two political science majors flinched. Edelgard normally would have reprimanded her roommate and said roommate’s two brain cells for slamming a door at two in the morning, but she was much more interested in the content they were about to hear. Besides, it wasn’t as if any of their neighbors would dare complain about the going-ons of those who lived in apartment 313. As Dorothea turned around from their front entrance, she instantly faced Hubert, trying to make direct eye contact with him.

“Hubie, explain why men think people like their necks to be coated in saliva.”

“Please do not try to engage me in this conversation.”

“But like, Hubie, listen to me, listen-” she started. She made her way through the kitchen and into the living room. She plopped herself at the other end of the couch Edelgard was on, and fell back onto Edelgard’s lap. She turned to face him, head resting on the warm lap. 

“Still a little drunk?” Edelgard couldn’t help but ask, which earned a forefinger to the lips for Edelgard from the slightly drunk DJ attempting to shush her. That was all the answer Edelgard needed.

“Sure he was super nice to look at and his arms were boulderous, but like, I don’t care how hot you are, there is such thing as too much tongue. What he did was too much tongue. Like, yes, the wetter the better, y’know. But not in that capacity. My neck was _ coated _,” she bemoaned. “But that’s not even the real problem, the real problem is… well. You know what, Hubert?”

She never called him by his real name. That was worrisome. Still he continued to concentrate on his screen. “Yes, Dorothea.” 

“Do you mind if you take a lil’ break from your paper and go somewhere else for like ten minutes so I can discuss something with Edie?” He frowned. 

“I doubt it's of anything of importance enough for me to leave, or anything of interest enough for me to listen. I’ve almost completed my essay, I wish to stay here until I’m done without interruption. Continue your conversation if you must, but I shall be here.” Dorothea began to rebut, but she pondered for a few moments, shooting Edelgard a look, before settling on an answer.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Hubert didn’t acknowledge her permission as he simply continued clacking on his keyboard, pausing only to gather his thoughts. Dorothea adjusted herself so that she was now comfortably facing up towards Edelgard. Edelgard looked into her emerald eyes. They were filled with mischief. “The real, my sweet baby E, is that I really don’t know what to do about not being able to get some. This is the fifth time it hasn’t gone well in the past five months. Like I haven’t gotten my lady area serviced in five whole months. Do you know how horny I am at this very moment? Outrageously.”

“Please refrain from saying these things with your face situated so close to my crotch,” Edelgard’s faux disgust was betrayed by the smile that tugged at her lips. Hubert pursed his lips ever so slightly as he tried to continue writing his paper. 

“But it’s true. All the people I’ve brought back… they’ve just all been awful. If it’s not too much tongue, it’s a dick shaped like a right angle. If it's not 90 degree dick, it's something else. Like even the lady I took home last month just lead to a lil bit of petting before she ended up remembering she needed to feed her cat and leaving. Which I respected and still do respect, but I haven’t been able to do anything about my achy breaky loins because none of my dick appointments pan out, I haven’t been able to find the charger for my wand and I'm sure as hell not buying a new one, and I can’t mess up my hands consistently whacking one out because I need my fingers to edit musi-” 

The clasping of a laptop screen interrupts Dorothea’s rant, causing her to freeze mid-gesticulating ‘whacking one out.’ Hubert placed his device on the coffee table.

“Perhaps a cigarette break is in order,” the gloomy man muttered to himself. He rose from the loveseat, picking up the black bomber jacket he had thrown on the back of it and put it on. He turned to give Edelgard one of their unspoken looks, as if to ask ‘you voluntarily _ live _ with her?’ The white haired woman simply shrugged her reply, attempting to hide her amusement.

As the door shut behind him, the two giggled. Dorothea lifted herself to face Edelgard. She criss-crossed her legs, getting comfortable. The two had been roommates since they moved into the White Cloud dormitories their first year of college. Fate had brought them together and, well into their third year of college, they had remained as tight as ever. “Sorry for interrupting your writing session.”

“It’s alright, my brain needed a break. Also seeing Hubert so grossed out was an absolute joy on my end. But what is this really about?” 

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out too. The more I think about it, I don’t think the quality of people has gone down. Maybe the me a year ago would have loved it and thought it was freaky. It’s just-” Dorothea paused. She took that moment to lift the blanket that had bunched behind Edelgard and place back on the back of the couch, smoothing it out. The dear skin felt soft under her fingers. “What I’m about to say, do not repeat to a single soul. Not a single one, not even Hubes.”

Dorothea removed the hand from the blanket and moved it towards Edelgard, extended her pinky. Edelgard mirrored the action, hooking her pinky in her friend’s and they both stamped their thumbs. “You have my word.”

“Dramatic ass.” Dorothea chuckled as they let go of their pinky promise. “Where’s Petra? I thought she was writing with you two.”

“As soon as you came back, Bernie came out of her room craving tacos. Petra asked to go with her to get some for us.” 

“What a sweetie,” The hint of affection in Dorothea’s voice did not go unnoticed by Edelgard. “Well. The thing is, I’m just realizing that every time I realized how unsexy my sexy times were getting, a part of me just kept wishing I was with someone else. Like, I would just get this feeling that if she were just there- like, okay, remember our first year how-” 

Edelgard’s brow furrowed in worry. “Is this about Ingrid? I told you getting lunch with her again-” 

“No, no. Gosh no, never again. We really are fine now. Promise.” Dorothea began to fidget with the hem of her skirt, however, as she felt the nerves begin to rise. “As I was saying, our first year after we got all moved in, you could tell I was kind of, well I thought Petra was gorgeous but you warned me from trying anything with her because she was actually a literal princess of Brigid and I definitely considered not listening to you because like at the time I thought, well, Brigid is only a territory of Fodlan now and the monarchy is just a figurehead so how difficult would it be if I tried anything obviously I’m more culturally and politically sensitive to that matter and also the fact that she is an actual, literal princess is a huge deal but anyway then the whole Ingrid thing happened and during it all we became really close with Petra and now she’s one of our best friends along with Bern and then the four of us moved in together and then The Ingrid Thing left me feeling so thirsty and thus began my ho phase cause you gotta do what you gotta do you know so-”

“Dorothea please, the point,” Edelgard begged. Ever since The Ingrid Thing, Dorothea had found herself outwardly reveling in her sexuality, lovingly calling her actions her ‘ho phase.’ When she felt the need, she took people home, and she was always happier for it. However, Dorothea had always been fond of Petra, and although Edelgard was close with Dorothea, she knew Dorothea’s closeness with their international friend had always been a little different. In all honesty, it was about time Dorothea had admitted some things to herself. And maybe tonight was the night. 

“Right. So what if, hear me out: so, recently, Petra would be popping up in my head while I was hooking up with these people, right? So what if maybe, I asked her to join me next time.” Edelgard stared at her friend incredulously.

“You think a threesome with one of your friends is the solution. Please, I am begging you to think for a moment of anything else that this could possibly indicate.” 

“I literally can’t think of anything else, Edie. I don’t want to. I’m desperate.” Edelgard looked into the emerald eyes to indicate if there was any sort of jest in them, but was dumbfounded in her sincerity.

“Dorothea, do you want my honest to goddess opinion?” The DJ nodded her head vigorously. Edelgard sighed. “Dotty, sweetie. Your ho phase is over.” 

Dorothea reeled at the use of the nickname, only pulled out in times of consolation. She took a moment to process what was just said. She had always thought that her phase would end on her own, conscious terms, but perhaps subconsciously her body knew it was over. Maybe her body and mind craved more than just a late night pounding session with an attractive stranger she would never speak to again. But, if that were the case, that means her body and mind were ready to open themselves to a relationship again. And if _ that _ were the case, that would mean that Edelgard was implying that she knew what her body and mind were trying to tell her, something her heart and soul weren't ready to admit. “No. Edie. That cannot be why all of this is happening. It’s not- I don’t like her.”

“I know you don’t _ like _ her.” 

“Dorothea is not liking who?” Both girls jumped in their seats as they turned around to see none other than Petra Macneary, 20 and a political science and history major, holding the door open as Bernadetta von Varley, the 21 year old creative writing major, caressed a bag of tacos and salsa in her arms. In their talk, the girls on the couch apparently had not heard the front door open. 

Bernadetta placed the tacos on the large island in their kitchen that acted as their dining table. Petra had filed in behind her, Hubert not far behind, apparently done with his smoke break. As the door shut behind them, Dorothea took a moment to survey the actual, literal princess in front of her. She was wearing yoga pants and a tank top, nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary, and yet on her she was still a sight to see. And then Dorothea dared to look her in the eyes, those inquiring eyes that always held a warmness, and suddenly Dorothea’s denial became as palpable as the heart palpitations in her chest at the sight of the princess in yoga pants. She feared she would implode if she looked any longer, so she looked away to Bernie instead, clad cozily in her hoodie and sweatpants.

“Oh, Edie was just worried about a girl I took home. But no worries, Edie, I definitely don’t like her.” It was maddening that even just the suggestion, the implication that she liked her friend was enough to spur these sudden feelings. The past few years with Petra have been years of wonderful friendship, and she was sure that she hadn’t felt anything for her dear friend since that small crush their first year of college, right? So why, now? Was repression really that strong of a weapon? 

“If you insist.” Edelgard looked to her friend, barely masking the smugness. “I don’t know about you all, but I am ready for some tacos.” 

She got up from the couch, throwing a look back at Dorothea telling her to join. But the DJ stayed on the couch with her thoughts. The idea of pursuing a relationship right now seemed impossible. She hadn’t been open to it for almost two years, and she didn’t even know how Petra felt, let alone if she liked women. Dorothea wasn’t even sure what exactly she felt for her roommate, and she wasn’t too keen on the fact that Edelgard was aware of her feelings before she was even able to admit anything to herself. Before she could spiral any further, a plate of tacos appeared on the coffee table in front of her. She looked up to see Petra herself looking at her inquisitively.

“Are you feeling okay, Dorothea? You are seeming unwell,” Dorothea shifted her body on the couch to make room for the actual, literal princess. As she sat down, Dorothea couldn’t help but notice the pit forming in her stomach. Dorothea averted her attention to the plate of tacos, steam still wafting from the delicious meats and warm tortilla. 

“I’ll be fine. I think I’m just starting to sober up so my tum tum’s feeling a little funny.” She patted the offending tummy and Petra chuckled.

“I have understanding. I was worrying for you for a moment, that perhaps the man you have brought to your quarters tonight has upset you. But I am relieved to hear that is not the case.” She placed what was meant to be a comforting hand on the DJ’s thigh, causing Dorothea’s heart to skip a beat. “I have purchased many al pastor tacos, so please have some to assist with your sobering.” 

The smile that Petra offered Dorothea could only be described as pure. And by the goddess, was it an overwhelming feeling for the DJ. She did her best to smile back, hoping that Petra wouldn’t notice the flush that began to rise on her face. Luckily, Petra had shifted her attention to the tasty late night meal.

“Well, how could I refuse such kindness?

This feeling was familiar, and it was a feeling that Dorothea hadn’t felt in a very long time. She hated that it took one bad hookup too many to realize that maybe, just maybe, she was feeling something a little extra for her dear friend...

But that was something she could try to keep processing tomorrow. Right now, she was tired and hungry. Dorothea reached for a taco of her own, and tried to ignore the blatant staring she could feel coming from Edelgard. Tonight she’ll just gorge her feelings on the delicious food and bask in the kind and gentle presence of the woman sitting next to her. 

3AM. That same morning. Hubert went back to his apartment just above the girls, Crimson Flower 413. He entered his room, dropped his items on his desk, and changed into nothing but a black sleeping shirt and his boxer briefs. He went into his bathroom, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and just as promptly exited his room.

He entered the room of a lightly snoring Ferdinand von Aegir, the 20 year old economics and philosophy double major. He quietly slid into bed of the orange haired man, sidled up behind him and took him into his arms, causing the sleeping man to stir. He wrapped his arms around him, and Ferdinand melted into the man behind him.

“What time is it?” the sleepy one asked his boyfriend.

“Around 3AM.”

“Dear goddess, you’re back late.” Ferdinand smiled contentedly, finding he always got better sleep in his love’s arms. And Hubert could have left it at that, but something Dorothea said to him had been tugging at him all night.

“Ferdinand, I must ask. Do I… use too much tongue for your liking?” the bright, sunny eyes shot open. He turned to face Hubert, whose serious face and tone could be felt in the darkness.

“What… do you all talk about in that apartment?” This must be Dorothea’s fault in some way. He chuckled. “No, you use the perfect amount of tongue for my liking.” 

“That was a foolish question.”   
  
“Not... foolish, just unexpected. And quite humorous, coming from you, I might add. Now sleep, please?” Hubert kissed Ferdinand’s forehead, and they cuddled into each other, that unexpected weight now being lifted off of Hubert’s shoulders. 


End file.
